


If I Die Young

by writeallnight



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Shell Cottage, Songfic, Talk about death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-19
Updated: 2020-07-19
Packaged: 2021-03-04 17:41:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25390288
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writeallnight/pseuds/writeallnight
Summary: The reality of war has set in, and in the relative safety of Shell Cottage Hermione confesses some of her deepest fears to the only person she has left.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley
Comments: 3
Kudos: 47





	If I Die Young

**Author's Note:**

> So this is a tad outside of my usual writing (by which I mean I have exclusively written Densi from NCIS LA for like...many years now). But Ron and Hermione were, and remain, my first OTP. I wanted nothing more in my teenage years than for them to find eternal happiness. I'm currently doing a reread of all the books and watching all the movies again and it has made me incredibly nostalgic for the two of them. This is the result.

_If I die young, bury me in satin,_

_Lay me down on a bed of roses,_

_Sink me in the river at dawn,_

_Send me away with the words of a love song._

_-The Band Perry_

"You should get some rest," Ron said firmly after they'd seen Harry had recovered from his vision of Voldemort. His best friend needed him, he knew that, but one look at Hermione's pale face and wide eyes told him she needed him more.

She nodded, leaning on him heavily as they walked to the tiny bedroom Fleur had indicated earlier. The space barely had room for a small double bed and a chair in the corner but at least Luna and Hermione would have it to themselves.

"Easy there," Ron said as Hermione sank onto the bed with a grimace. "I'll be right outside, all right? Just call if you need anything."

"Ron." She caught his hand as he turned to go. "Can I talk to you for a moment?"

"Yeah, yeah sure," he said, coming to sit beside her on the bed.

She continued to hold his hand, staring down at their intertwined fingers. "I want to talk to you…about what happens if I die."

Alarm shot through him. "Hermione, you're going to be fine. You heard what Fleur said, you just need some rest."

"I don't mean tonight. We've been running for so long, and the names on the radio...I guess it hadn't seemed quite real until today. But it is. We're at war. People are dying. And the chances of all of us surviving, they're not…they're not good."

"You are _not_ going to die," Ron said fiercely. "I won't let it happen."

"You may not have a choice. Think about what happened today, Ron. If Dobby hadn't been there-"

"No! We're not talking about this," he said in frustration. He couldn't. Couldn't think about losing her. "You're just tired. You'll feel better in the morning."

"Ron please, I—I don't have anyone else."

The vulnerability in her voice pierced his heart and he suddenly understood. She'd given up her family to fight with him and Harry and until this moment he hadn't fully realized how alone that sacrifice had left her. Harry was on a mission, she couldn't burden him with her thoughts. Which left him. She was pleading, asking for his help because he was all she had left.

He'd promised himself he'd never hurt her again. As much as he didn't want to hear this, she needed the reassurance that whatever happened, someone would be there to take care of her. "All right, 'Mione."

She seemed to sag in relief. "Thank you," she took a shaky breath, gathering her thoughts. "If I—If I die," she swallowed, unable to meet his eyes now. "I don't want anyone to find my mum and dad. I want them to go on living their lives without me. They'll be…they'll be happier that way, I think, not remembering me. It's better for them."

She finally looked at him and he gave a jerky nod of acknowledgement, squeezing her hand in what he hoped was an encouraging manner despite the fact that he thought he might vomit. Imagining a world without Hermione was the worst thing he'd ever thought of and the weight of it seemed unbearable.

"My gran and granda are buried at home in the family plot but, my parents would have to request it and, well…So I think I'd like to be buried at Hogwarts instead," she continued bravely. "If Hogwarts is still there, I mean. I think that's where I'd like to stay forever. It always did feel like a second home anyway and it would be nice to be in a place with so many memories."

Tears glistened in her eyes but he could tell she was determined to finish. "The only thing is, I'm afraid it might get quite lonely there since none of you will be at school anymore. So, if you wouldn't mind too much, maybe, maybe you could come and visit me. Once in a while. And just…just talk or read to me so I won't be so alone."

It didn't matter that if she were gone he most assuredly would be too. If anyone tried to touch her, ever again, they'd have to do so over his cold, dead body. But she didn't need to hear that. She needed to hear that he would be there for her for the rest of her life, and beyond if necessary.

"Of course," he said softly, his gut wrenched into a massive knot. "I'll come every day if you like."

Hermione nodded. "Thank you. That would be…it would be lovely." Her voice broke a little, a sob escaping at last.

Her eyes met his, tears falling thickly. "I'm scared," she whispered.

She was trembling and Ron found he wasn't holding himself together very well either. "Me too."

He slid back so he rested against the headboard and she curled her body into his, her hand fisting into the front of his shirt. A year ago, six months ago he wouldn't have known what to do, having her this close. But now, no number of silly books or tips from his brother mattered. He knew what felt right and that was holding her while she cried herself to sleep.

He thought she'd drifted off when she spoke again, her voice soft with sleep. "Thank you for coming back."

His breath caught in his throat, the shame of abandoning his friends, the guilt of not being able to stop what had happened to her today overwhelming him for a moment. "I'll never leave you again," he finally managed. "Never. I promise."

She sighed softly, and he could tell she'd fallen asleep. She'd fallen asleep because he was there, because he'd listened. And as scared as he was of what lay before them, there was something comforting about knowing he'd finally, _finally_ done the right thing for her.


End file.
